"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. " The object of this discussion sat motionless. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. "You forgot your lunch," she said. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames. ” “You have not answered my question,” he reminded her. "'Sblood!" cried Jonathan, who had listened to the foregoing conversation with angry wonder, "I've been nicely done here.
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